Its all in the Wrist
by blade3000xl
Summary: A short look at Judeau's early life as a traveling performer.
1. Default Chapter

Note: I do not own Berserk, or Judeau, Kentarou Miura does, and we should all bow down to him now and thank him for his genius.  
  
Summary: Judeau used to be a traveling performer before he was the scout commander of the Band of the Hawk. This is a short story of his earlier days.  
  
Its all in the Wrist  
  
The small village near the borderlands of Midland were not normally very happy places to be. Most of the time these simply farming communities were too busy fending off mercenaries and bandits, and never had time for anything else. But on this particular autumn evening, the residents of Canteed village were cheering and clapping. A caravan of street performers and gypsies had decided to try and earn a few extra coins from these humble people, and the villagers were more then happy to welcome them with open arms.  
There were many villagers and various other roadside travelers flocking towards the center of town that night, in order to have some fun and to see the performances of the people that had just arrived. So many people left to go to this festival in fact, that the entire western half of the village was empty. Empty of course, besides the two young people who sat on a wooden pegged fence in front of a farmhouse.  
On that fence sat a young boy and a slightly older girl. They were talking about many things, mostly about the boy and how he had come to live with such a fascinating group of people like the gypsies. The boy had long blonde hair which dangled down the sides of his head, and although he was fairly skinny, he still had some slight muscle build on him, especially on his arms. The girl on the other hand was just a simple farmhand, and her working apron and clothes were tattered and covered in dirt, a reminded of a hard life. She smiled as the boy told his tale to her.  
"Life as a performer has its upsides and its downsides. One minute, you are thinking of how to make more money, and the next you are wondering if everything is even worth the small amount you make." The boy said while he flipped a kitchen knife into the air. He smiled and looked at the girl, whose name he had recently found out with Daphne. He noticed she seemed quite interested in what he was saying, so he continued. "When I first ran into this rowdy band of misfits, I was just an orphan living in the streets of Wyndam. I had no where to go, no where to live, and most importantly, nothing to eat." Daphne nodded and then smiled. "I can see where you're coming from, I myself don't even get much at all. I work for food and nothing more." She leaned back on the fence and noticed that it swayed a little bit under their combined weight. "But to travel and be out and about, always seeing new things and meeting new people, that must be something to behold." She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to visualize it for herself.  
Daphne saw herself as a dancer with ribbons, twirling them around her as she frolicked and leaped into the air, the onlookers around her so in awe that all they could do was stare at her. She was enjoying her fantasy when the boy next to her clapped his hands together in front of her face loudly, knocking her back into the real world. She shrieked slightly and fell over the fence, landing in some mud and getting herself dirtier then she was before. The boy broke down and laughed hysterically at his newly made friend and pointed at her. She grumbled some obscenities at him and angrily rose to her feet, trying to knock some of what she hoped was mud off from her clothes.  
The boy stopped laughing, and then he bowed in apology. "Many pardons my lady, I didn't mean any harm to you at all...although it was...VERY amusing..." he chuckled a bit more, then helped her back to the other side of the fence where they sat down once more. Daphne sat back down and stared at the boy, who seemed a bit carefree and innocent, even if he was a troublemaker. She didn't quite know what to say to him now, having been shoved into a field full of mud by him. So instead of saying anything at all, she simply stared at the street. For a few minutes no one talked at all, they just sat in complete silence. The boy, in his boredom, took this extra time to flip the wooden handled kitchen knife into the air. The blade flew ten feet above his head, then he instantly placed his wrist towards the ground, the knife rolling down his arm like he were a rushing waterfall and it then harmlessly fell back into his hand. Daphne saw him do this with the knife and her eyes went wide. The boy then twiddled the knife between all of his fingers and threw it back up, this time allowing the knife to fall into a small homemade sheath located on his belt. It slid into the sheath easily and delicately as though it were a guided missile. "Wh..where did you learn how to do that?!" She pointed quickly at the knife now put away on the boy's waist. The boy looked confused, and then followed her gaze to his belt. He smiled, "Oh, you mean with the knife?" Daphne nodded in response and just stared at him in disbelief. The boy shrugged and smiled wryly. "Just something I've always been able to do I guess, I suppose everyone has a talent or a gift, I guess mine is with knives." He looked at the knife again, and leaned forward, allowing it to fall out of its sheath and fall to his left foot, which he kicked up, the knife flying into the air. He then caught the knife by the handle in his mouth, and smiled at Daphne with it dangling from his lips.  
Daphne giggled a little and then she nodded. "You are indeed talented sir." She blushed a bit. "What's you name? You never told me, I just told you mine." She smiled at him and her blush increased in its boldness. The boy smiled and opened his mouth, the knife falling into his hand. "Oh, my apologies Daphne, my name is Judeau." He smiled and then leaned down and kissed her hand. She blushed even more and covered her hand with the other, as if to hide it from him. "Tha..thank you Judeau...your so sweet." She looked away. Judeau just stared at the town where all of the excitement was going on. "Don't think anything from it, a pretty girl such as yourself deserves to be treated nicely. Especially in a world like this." He smiled and then looked at her. Daphne nodded and then looked at the ground. "Your too kind." Judeau smiled once more and hopped off the fence. "Well I should be getting back now, I wouldn't want my employers to kick me out of the convoy just yet, I got some money to make." He winked at Daphne and tossed her the sheathed knife. She caught it and then looked at Judeau in confusion. "For me?" She asked the boy. Judea nodded. "Yea, I suppose since I may never see you again, Ill just give you something to remember me by," He shrugged, "I hate saying goodbyes, so I guess giving something as a gift makes me know that my friends will still think of me as a friend, even if I'm not around." Daphne giggled a little bit and then nodded. "Thank you Judeau, but I shouldn't be the only one that leaves with something." She reached into her pocket and came up with a small brown pouch. She then tossed the pouch at Judeau, who took it into his hands.  
Judeau grasped a hand around the pouch, paid his final farewells to Daphne and then ran down the road towards his caravan of fellow performers. As he ran, he heard Daphne call out to him "Judeau! That's fairy dust! It will protect you from harm!" Judeau turned and looked back his newfound friend. "Thanks a lot Daphne! But I might not need it, I'm not a warrior!" The girl laughed from her position down the street as she jumped off the fence and started to go inside her farmhouse. "Its ok, you never know when a traveler might need it!" Judeau nodded once more smiling and then began running again. He got thirty more feet between himself and Daphne when he heard her once more. "By the way Judea! What's your secret with those knives!!? I want to try it!!"  
Judeau smirked and then tossed a free knife into his right hand, throwing it across the street and hitting a wooden pail dead center, knocking it off of a well. "Its all in the wrist Daphne, just use that basic knowledge and build on it." He winked at her and then left, running into the thick crowd of onlookers.  
As the young boy ran away into the crowd, Daphne sighed and held the sheathed kitchen knife tightly to her chest. "Goodbye Judeau, and may the future hold good fortune for you and anyone who you meet." She then happily walked inside of her house where she went to bed, far too tired for any nighttime festivities.  
  
A/N: And there we have it, it was short. Please review. I know there aren't many Judeau fics out there, and even though this one if pretty pointless, Id still like some feedback. ( 


	2. The Bastion on the Hill

Note from the Author: I figured since I have received a few friendly pieces of criticism from some readers, that Id submit another chapter to this story. I don't know if this will be the last entry for it or not, I guess we will just see. (  
  
Also, I have another fic in the works in the Berserk section too. This piece is an original created by me as an extra to the Berserk World. That one is called "Berserk: Memories", check it out and review too if you have the time please.  
  
..................................................................  
  
Chapter Two: Merriment  
  
After the events of the festival were over with, the large ensemble of street performers and gypsies decided to celebrate a performance well done. They had separated into groups as the moon settled in the sky and nightfall conquered the sun, and had went off to do whatever it was that suited them.  
Judeau, being the young boy that he was, found his comfort in simply running around the small village and exploring all that he could. He had just finished irritating a baker who was busy closing his shop for the night when Judeau turned a corner and ran face first into a pedestrian.  
Falling over and landing on his rear, Judeau gave a small whine of pain and stood on his feet slowly, rubbing his slightly scratched area with his left hand. "What's the big idea?" Judeau said, his eyes narrowing in anger. He raised his head in order to get a good look at the one he had ran into, and found himself face to face with another boy. The boy it seems had taken the running performer easily, and was barely shaken at all from being ran into. He was remotely tall, with long flowing whitish hair and a pale skin tone that made Judeau sub-consciously think of a ghost. "You should really watch where you going kid." The older boy said, staring into Judeau's eyes.  
Judeau found himself feeling very strange as he continued to look at the person in front of him. He stopped rubbing his aching bottom and then turned to look down the alley at a castle on top of a hill far in the horizon. "Wow, I didn't realize that this little place had a castle at all. That's sort of surprising." Judeau said, more to himself then the boy in front of him. The older boy shrugged and turned to look at it. Then he turned back to Judeau, a large grin on his face. "I'm going to live there someday you know."  
Judeau found himself dumbstruck and then smiled in a sneering laugh at the other boy's comment. He soon found himself cracking up and busting out in a hysterical uproar. "You've got to be kidding me!" Judeau yelled under his gasps of hilarity. "A simple street kid like you will never reach something as marvelous as a castle!" He fell over and continued to laugh at the white haired boy; he simply narrowed his eyes at Judeau and sighed stressfully. "I might not be able to get there yet," The older boy began. "But when I'm older, I swear that Ill make it. I have to."  
Judeau shook his head, the grin on his face not wavering. He walked over to the white haired boy and chuckled, placing a hand on his right shoulder. "Well, I doubt that will ever happen at all. But wishful thinking never hurt anyone. I'm Judeau by the way. You probably saw my performance back in the village square. I was the knife thrower." The older boy slowly turned his attention to Judeau's hand on his shoulder, and a small grin came across his face. "I'm Griffith," The older boy said in a quiet voice. "Want to play with me Judeau?"  
Judeau narrowed his eyes and shook his head once more. "Playing games is for little kids Griffith, I'm not a kid." Judeau rubbed his nose with his index finger and smiled with pride at what he had said. Griffith raised an eyebrow at the younger boy's comment and then turned his attention back to the castle that hovered over the village like a bastion of hope against a violent world. "Even adults need to play games sometimes." Griffith said, not looking at Judeau as he spoke. "Everyone needs to forget their worries every now and then, and instead of thinking about what should be done, they should do what they feel is in their heart." He smiled and looked down at the shorter Judeau, who had in turn had a look of awe on his face. "Now Judeau the knife thrower, do you wish to play a game with me?"  
Judeau simply nodded slowly at the older boy, and the two began to walk slowly down the alleyway and towards the large building of stone on the hillside.  
  
Authors Note: All right, there's the next part, completely finished. I know this story so far has nothing to do with the main storyline of Berserk, but I'm thinking on the boundaries of the line at what may have happened and how the characters met each other in the past. Please leave another review for me. It's much needed. ( 


	3. All by Myself

Chapter 3: "All Alone by Myself"  
  
The kitchen knife with the wooden hilt threw through the air and missed the hanging scarecrow by a few yards. The knife landed among the crops of the field and bounced harmlessly on the dirt, landing on its side against a rock. Daphne sighed in frustration and narrowed her eyes at the target. The scarecrow smiled at her with its burlap face, taunting her. She growled in anger and stomped her way towards where the knife had landed. Bending over, Daphne picked the knife up into her left hand and stared at it for the longest time. "Judea, where have you gone too?" She said quietly to herself. "I need you to come back and teach me how to throw this knife." She smiled to herself and then looked at the knife once more. "I'm pretty terrible at this."  
  
The day changed into the afternoon as Daphne continued to feverously throw the knife at the scarecrow and not having any luck in her progress. "The knife must be too dull." She had noted, then remembered how the young boy had earlier impaled a wooden pail on a well quite easily with another one of his blades. She took a short break and walked over to sit on the wooden fence that lined the border between her family's land and the outside world and swung her feet over the side. She was sitting minding her own business on her fence when she caught something in the corner of her eye.  
  
The caravan from earlier was coming Daphne's way, having packed up and was leaving Daphne's village to travel to the next town. The caravan of gypsies and performers marched passed her, the mix-matched bunch ignoring her as they left. Daphne jumped up and down where she sat and desperately searched for her friend Judeau, but as the last remnants of the group left and vanished over the horizon, she had a feeling she would never see the young boy again.  
  
Daphne sighed once more and rocked her body on the wooden fence. She placed the knife into its home made sheath and looked over at the hill that the caravan had just vanished behind. "I wonder where they are going now." She asked herself, not knowing the answer. "They probably are going to another city, full of adventure and happiness. I wish I could go too." She looked down at the dirt road, just as a pair of feet walked by her eyesight. Looking up, Daphne saw an elderly woman with a hunched back making her way slowly into the village, a small cart with a donkey behind her. The old woman wore a dark green cloak over her ancient form, and on the cart was an array of items and materials that few had ever seen. A sign hung low from the back of the cart and read "Madam Narius, Fortune Teller".  
  
Daphne smiled as she saw the old fortuneteller walk away farther from her. "Maybe life in this village wont go back to normal just yet after all." Daphne did not know at that time what the intentions of the mysterious old woman were, but she did see one thing that caught her eye. Hanging from one of the racks of items on the back of the cart was a long corded pendant. At the end of this cord hung an egg shaped scarlet object that snapped back and forth against the wooden sign, making a drum like sound of impending doom. 


	4. Ambition of a Boy

Note: If any of you notice any OOC from Griffith let me know in your reviews. Do take into consideration, however, that his personality and attitude maybe different from the one portrayed in the anime/manga. Just as a side note. ...............................................  
  
Chapter Four: When Ambition comes from a Child  
  
As the moon filled the village with its glowing warmth, the stars sparkled high in the sky and made a gargantuan roadmap of eternity. Judeau and his newly found friend, Griffith were busy at this time leaning against a stonewall near a local pub. After all of the other stores and businesses had been closed, the pub had opened in order to entertain those men and women who either were too tired to go walk home just yet, or had more pressing matters to keep them from their homes. The pub was designed more like it was a simple roadside stand, and the roof was a simple canopy made from a thick cloth fabric. The patrons and barmaids walked around under this tarp, the countertop an oak table in the center, the stoves and other kitchen accessories near the back.  
  
Griffith was staring intently at a large bowl full of beef stew that sat on the counter. He licked his lips and was about to reach out and grab it from its resting place when he noticed that the bowl belonged to a very tall and well built man. The man smiled and then slammed his hand on the table, demanding more ale to go with his meal.  
  
Grifftith turned towards Judeau, who was absent-mindedly flipping another kitchen knife into the air in front of him. "Hurry up and get the food Griffith, I'm getting bored." Judeau said with a deep sigh. Judeau was an active boy, and he wanted to run around and do more things with the time he had left in the village. "If I don't hurry soon, I'm going to miss the caravan, and then Il be stuck here." He thought to himself. "Can't have that happen, I'm not fit for simple farm work."  
  
"Hey, Judeau." Griffith whispered to the other boy. "I have a plan to get that stew away from that big lug over there. But I'm going to need your help." Judeau raised an eyebrow and smiled "Why do you need me? You can easily run over and just grab the bowl from the man before he even knows what happened. I bet he's colossally drunk and out of it anyways, it'll be simple." The knife thrower smiled and then shrugged, "Unless of course, you have a better plan."  
  
"I do." Griffith said slowly and quietly, his strange and entrancing eyes narrowing and re-setting their attention back on the targeted bowl of food. "If there is one thing I'm good at friend, it would be strategy."  
  
"Strategy?" Judeau found himself saying out loud. He shook his head and tried once more not to laugh at this comrade in mischief. "You know Griffith, you sound more and more like a knight every time you open your mouth."  
  
Griffith smiled and gave Judeau a quick glance. "Excellent, then perhaps maybe Ill be one yet." Judeau was about to say something more to his friend, but he never had the time too. Griffith's supposed plan was to run out and grab the stew as fast as he could. He rushed over and grasped the bowl with both hands, the steaming hot outer edges causing him to whimper, he then fell backwards and sat on the floor, shoving his hands into the boiling hot liquid and licking it off his hands furiously. "The hell is he doing?" Judeau said in amazement as he watched Griffith sit in front of the drunken man as though the man were not there any longer.  
  
The drunken patron looked over and was shocked to see a small street urchin like Griffith eating his food he had just purchased. He stood up and lowered his face at the boy. "Hey kid, get your own damn food." He shoved his right hand forward to try and get the bowl back, but Griffith quickly lunged out of his way and tried to hide the bowl behind his back, long drooling amounts of brownish liquid running down his chin. "No, please sir. Please let me have it, I'm so hungry." Griffith took another gulp of the stew as the large man drew his left leg back.  
  
The initial impact was hard and forceful, it struck Griffith in his forehead, and he spat out the stew he had just brought into his mouth. The stew flew in the air and landed on another customer, it saturated the other man's clothes and made him jump in alarm. Griffith fell over, a large bruised and bleeding welt across his head. Judeau found himself narrowing his eyes in anger at what the man had just done to his friend. He saw the man walk slowly towards Griffith and stomped down with a massive leather boot on the back of Griffith's head, slamming his face into the ground. Griffith looked up as Judeau was readying to throw is knife at the enemy, and gave Judeau a cracked smile. "He's got to be joking me, after taking such a beating like that why doesn't he just run away?" Griffth smiled some more and sat up, his head wobbling from side to side as his entire face was bloody from a bleeding nose.  
  
"Stupid little kid, you should know better then to take others things!" the drunken man yelled at Griffith, his right face going back and preparing to strike Griffith in his face once more. "Please sir, I'm just hungry...please.." Griffith sounded as pathetic as he could, but the man was still about to strike him anyway. Judeau leaned against the stone wall and was about to make his move on the drunken man anyway, despite Griffith's please when the sounds of someone else was heard in the pub.  
  
The man that had been sprayed with stew stood up and grabbed the drunken man's right arm, just before he was going to punch Griffith with it. The drunken man turned and looked at the one who stopped him, he was a skinny man with tanned skin and large beard. "Get lost buddy, you don't want any of this." The drunken man told the new arrival. "I wont just stand by and let someone pound a small child in pulp." The thinner man said, still holding the drunken man's arm tightly. "That little kid just stole my food!" The drunken man cried in anger. Griffith rolled back into a sitting position and made himself look scared. He slightly nudged the bowl towards the drunken man who had struck him and cowered in the corner of the pub.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, the thinner man shook his head slowly. 'You should be ashamed of yourself Cohen. Not only is the boy small, he also appears to be all alone and poor too. Look, he's trembling." The thin man walked passed the now stunned drunken man, whose name turned out to be Cohen, and kneeled before the boy. "Are you alright little one?" He asked Griffith in a happy voice.  
  
Griffith slowly nodded. "I'm really sorry sir, I was only hungry. I haven't had anything to eat in so long, and I don't know what to do." Griffith cowered some more and wrapped his arms around himself. The thin man patted the boy's face and smiled down at him. "I know how much of a pain life can be sometimes. It's hard and we just have to do what needs to be done in order to make sure everything will be ok later." The man opened his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins and handed it to Griffith, who slowly took it from him. "Maybe this will help you buy your own food. Now, move along boy." The thin man got back to his feet and walked back to his seat. Griffith stood and slowly limped his way into the alleyway where Judeau was still frozen from both fear and awe.  
  
As soon as he entered the alleyway, Griffith's limp failed and he walked normally, rubbing his injured face and sighing. "Well, that went well." Was all he said. Judeau just nodded slowly. "So you planned that then? You were hoping the man would hit you?" Griffith let an evil smile cross his face. "You need money to buy things Judeau, but I'm just a kid. I don't have a job, and I don't have a family either. Living all by myself has taught me a great lesson. Would you like to know that lesson?"  
  
Judeau nodded and awaited what Griffith would say next. "In order to get what you need in this world, you have to use what you have to the best ability you can muster. I am a small child, most adults would consider me cute. In order to get what I want, I will use what I have to get it, regardless of what I will lose." The boy walked over to Judeau and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You should be getting back to your caravan before they leave without you."  
  
Judeau just nodded and shook his head in confusion then began to run away towards where his group's wagons were parked. "Griffith huh? Why is it that whenever he talks, I feel like I'm being flooded with emotion? Is this what it feels like to be enthralled with someone?" These thoughts washed through Judeau's mind and he could not find the answer. As he ran down the road, he quickly passed by a small cart full of strange items, a mule and an elderly woman at the helm. 


	5. Stay With Me

Note: Although this fic is promptly rated a decent level for all audiences, we must all remember that it is Berserk. This chapter reveals the Berserk world for what it is, a violent and merciless place that focuses mainly on the evil of the human spirit. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story so far, the only reason I have decided to continue this story is because of all of your kind remarks on how it was progressing.  
  
Chapter 5: Stay With Me  
  
Daphne was lying on her back that night, staring up at the stars that were held high into the sky above her. She had found knife throwing to be a very hard and time-consuming activity, and she did not have the patience she found to do it for very long. She had decided around an hour before to put the knife away and just lay in the field where it was easy to see things from. There was one particularly good spot in the center where the crops had died for unknown reasons, and she had decided to make that spot the area where she would rest. Her eyes narrowed, she stared directly at the brightest of the stars and moved her hand up towards the sky, trying desperately to grasp the shining object from where it was placed. "I wish I was a star." She said to herself in depression. "If I was, I could just be by myself, away from everything. Especially away from those who want to hurt me. Especially from him."  
  
Daphne found it hard not to cry sometimes, just thinking of what always happened to her when she was to come home at night. Her father had always been an alcoholic, this was true, but ever since Daphne's mother had perished from a fever, her father had strangely seen his daughter as a replacement. He would often times force Daphne to do things for him that was far beyond what children should be forced to do. It was one thing for her to be forced to tend the crops all by herself, but it was a completely different thing when he wanted physical pleasure from her. She stared at the sky longer, and saw that she could not take the star from its place in the sky. "You are lucky Mr. Star." She almost said, tears falling from her face. "I bet you never had to try and hide from your family."  
  
Daphne looked over towards where her and Judeau had spent the earlier day together sitting on the fence. "Judeau, why did you leave me here. I wanted to be your princess, I wanted to go with you." Daphne curled up into a ball and began to cry, thinking of what she would never see, and what she would soon see when she grew tired enough to return to her house.  
  
...............................................  
  
Judeau sat by himself on a large rock just on the outskirts of the village. "They left me." He said, still trying to wipe the tears from his freckled face. "How could they just leave me here?" He raised his right hand and stared at the kitchen knife he held, the metal blade glowing from the reflection of the moon. "I wasn't very far away...why, why does everyone always leave me behind?" Judeau felt more tears leave his face as he then wiped them off once more. "No, I can't cry like this. I'm a man now, I have to act like one too." He stood up and moved away from the rock he had been sitting on for several hours now, ever since he left Griffith and searched for the caravan. The caravan had left him earlier it seemed, but he still attempted to find them. He had nowhere to go now, no family, no one who could look after him at all. "What am I going to do now?"  
  
As Judeau was wallowing in self-pity, he vaguely recalled something from the other day. "Daphne..." he said quietly. "Daphne is a friend of mine, she'll let me stay with her, I just know she will!" With a newly formed smile across his face, the proud street performer flicked the knife into the air and let it fall into one of his pockets as he happily marched down the dirt road towards the place he had seen the young girl earlier. "Friends never say no to each other."  
  
..........................................  
  
Daphne sighed heavily and rose to her feet, staring at the small three-room farmhouse where she lived. There was a single light that could be seen shining from a window. Daphne narrowed her eyes and then found herself almost crying again as she thought about the nightmares that light had brought to her earlier. "Like fire, his eyes look like fire. My father, he's a demon." She clenched her hands into fists, and didn't notice the small boy with blonde hair sneaking up from behind her.  
  
Judeau walked behind Daphne like he was a wild cat on the prowl. His hands outstretched to his sides, he moved towards her with such stealth that a ninja from the eastern lands would have been jealous. As he neared her, however, he could hear her sobbing quietly to herself, and he also noticed the small teardrops that fell to the dirt at her feet. The small dots of water visible only by the light of the full moon.  
  
Being the friend he had hope he was to her, Judeau simply walked up behind the young girl slowly and placed his arms around her in a tight yet somber embrace. Startled at first, Daphne yelped in surprise, her watery face swaying a bit to see who was behind her. Her reddening eyes met his, and at once she felt better. "Judeau..." she said softly. "You came back."  
  
"Daphne," Judeau said, staring deeply into her eyes with his own. "Whatever is bothering you right now, no matter what it is, it will be alright. I promise you." Hearing his gentle and commanding words, Daphne found a smile cross her sad face. She turned around completely and looked at him, then looked to her feet, out of his gaze. "Judeau, don't make promises you cant keep to someone. You don't even know what's wrong with me. No one does. You can't help me." She found more tears begin to flow, and then Judeau placed a hand under her chin and raised her face to his own again. He smiled and let her see it cross his face, his freckles hiding under wrinkles that were forced up from the grin. "I can very well promise things to you Daphne. If I cant help you, then what kind of friend am I?" He shrugged at his own words and then smiled once more, looking into her eyes again. "No matter what it is Daphne, I will try and make it better again. I will do anything for you, even die myself." Daphne found his last comment hard to believe and looked up at his warm face. "But Judeau, you haven't known me that long. We only talked for a few minutes yesterday."  
  
Judeau flipped his knife from his pocket nervously and let it glide into the air as he caught and flipped it once more. He juggled it around his face and then caught it with its blade, purposely letting it slice into his palm. "Yes, we only talked for a few minutes Daphne, but we are still friends. I will do anything for my friends because frankly, friends are all I have. I can't lose them, not like I lost my family." The blood trickled down his hand and down his arm, where it formed at his elbow and began to drip to the ground at his feet. "Judeau, you're bleeding." Daphne said, as she reached out to touch him. Judeau just looked down at the wound and smirked. "Its not anything more then a scratch, don't worry about it." He took out some cloth from a side pack he had and wrapped the wound in it. "Blood is only as good as the one it flows from." He said as he wrapped it. "What do you mean Judeau?" Daphne asked questionably.  
  
Taking a seat in the clearing where Daphne had been sitting earlier, Judeau looked up at the sky and stared at the brightest star he could find. Daphne paused for a moment and then sat next to him. "Sometimes, don't you just want to be a star?" Judeau said quietly and sadly, more to himself then his female friend. "You just want to fly away into the sky, and no one can bother you. Not up there anyway." Daphne found herself begin to cry again upon hearing Judeau's sad words. "Judeau, why are you so alone? And why are you just like me?" Those were things that Daphne thought about that night, as her and her friend with the long blonde hair leaned against one another and fell asleep under the stars. 


	6. Destinies in Dreams

Chapter 6: Destinies in Dreams  
  
"Where am I?" Judeau said as he opened his eyes and found himself hovering in a blank white space of nothingness. "Have I died? Is this heaven?" Whenever the boy spoke, he found his words to echo back at him continuously, as though he were inside of a very deep cave. He tried to sit up and rise to his feet, but he found it nearly impossible to move any of his muscles. Scared and not too sure what was happening to him, Judeau watched the area around him change from the white empty space into something more diabolical. Blood seemed to seep from above him, the red gore slowly covering every inch of space in his line of sight as though someone had spilt something on a wooden floor and the puddle spread across it. Soon the white was completely gone altogether, and the red scarlet color was all he could see.  
  
"What does it mean?" Judeau asked himself, the echoes continuing. "I don't understand." As he said these words, Judeau soon found that he was granted back the ability to use his muscles, and he sat up and looked around him more. He found that he was lying on top of a massive stack of dead and mutilated bodies. The bodies had been long dead, the skin rotted away and decayed. In shock, Judeau jumped and began to breath heavily, holding his right hand to his mouth as to not scream in alarm. He quickly turned his head all around him and took in the grisly scene more and more. As far as he could see, the bodies continued, never-ending. The sky was what he had seen change, the peaceful color of white being ransacked and destroyed by the evil of red. "Is this hell?" Judeau said softly to himself. "Why am I here?"  
  
As if ushered by his voice, the stack of bodies shifted and the greenish skinned body of a man crawled from it. He smiled at Judeau, his empty eye sockets and broken teeth welcoming the boy to this strange and frightening place. Judeau found himself backing away slowly from the zombie, and stumbled and fell into the mass of bodies, the hands dead hands raising from people long dead, holding him so he couldn't flee. "No, stay back, don't come any closer!" He yelled as the zombie shambled closer to him every second. The zombie's lips began to move, a few teeth falling from its mouth and landing near its feet. "Judeau, why did you leave me my son?" The voice was cracked and ruined; it was a sad and depressed voice.  
  
Judeaus eyes widen in alarm and fear, a tear trickling down his left cheek. He found himself stuttering as the sad zombie continued to approach him. "F...Father?" He said in a muffled gasp.  
  
....................................................  
  
Daphne opened her eyes and found herself lying on her bed inside of her room. The walls were cracked and broken in places, a deadly reminder of encounters from the past. Her bed frame was made of oak that was quickly and absent-mindedly built. The mattress was then made from old cloth and clothes that had been stitched together, stuffed with bird feathers. Daphne attempted to move, not wanting to be in her home, knowing what was going to happen if she stayed there any longer. She tried to move her arms, but found that they were tied to the bedposts with rope. Her eyes widened in fear and she began to scream as loud as she could. "Judeau! Help me! Rescue me!!" As she tried to free herself from her bonds, the door to her room slowly began to swing open, a dark shadowy form in the doorway, staring at her with hungry eyes. She tried to bring her hand in front of her face to shield her from the man that was coming, the rope digging into her arm and drawing blood. "No, please stay away, don't touch me!"  
  
Slowly walking into the room, the shadow smiled evilly, the whites of his teeth glistening in the moonlight from the window behind Daphne. As he approached the bed, the man began to speak slowly. "I thought I told you not to stay outside after it became dark. You disappoint me Daphne. That's why I need to punish you for your insolence." As he said these words, the man that was Daphne's father removed his belt from around his waist and smacked the leather strap in his other hand. "I must punish you for seeing that boy."  
  
Walking up to the foot her bed, Daphne began to feel tears leave her eyes and she became ecstatic with terror. "No father, please don't!" The man smiled more and began to laugh as he raised the belt high into the air above him. Daphne saw where he was aiming at, and she gasped in alarm and sobbed with fright. "NO!"  
  
...................................................  
  
"Judeau, you left me to die. You left me there, and didn't even stop running. Its all your fault." The zombie said in its cracked voice, as it was merely feet away from reaching the frightened child. Judeau wrestled with the decaying arms, which held him to the ground and started to laugh since he was so scared. "Father, I swear I didn't no! I ran to get some help! And then when I got back you were....you were..." The zombie smiled and stopped walking for an instant. Then it looked down at Judeau, and blood began to flow from its empty eye sockets like a fountain. "I was dead. You let me die there. It's all your fault. And when you are older, you will send more to meet me. All for him. All for your master."  
  
Judeau gritted his teeth and then shook his head in denial. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about! Make some sense!" The zombie fell forwards and landed right next to Judea, the decaying face against Judeau's own. "If you follow him, then all is lost. The world will turn black and many people will die. Its all your choice son." As these words were said, Judeau opened his eyes in real life and found himself all alone in the clearing in the field.  
  
"Daphne?" He looked around, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. 


	7. Red Soaked Hands

Chapter 7: Red Soaked Hands  
  
Judeau rose to his feet in the field of crops and as the stars shined above him, he heard the screams from within the farmhouse in front of him. The screams were muffled, as though they were far away, they sounded hurt and frantic. Before he knew what he was doing, Judeau's legs were moving on their own. He ran towards the house as fast as he could, his legs tearing through the crops like a scythe during harvest. "Daphne!" He yelled as he reached the front door to the wooden shack.  
  
............................................  
  
Daphne cried out in pain once more as her father hit her as hard as he could with his belt. The leather felt like it was a true whip, the leather strap cutting into her legs and into her lower abdomen as though it were a knife. Blood began to blossom from her newly formed wounds, as the man standing above her hit her over and over again, a huge smile on his face. "If you keep on screaming, then I will keep on hitting you." He laughed evilly and moved his attention to Daphne's chest, the belt strap slapping against her clothed breasts and causing her such pain that she almost lost consciousness. She stopped screaming, the pain so great from the attack on her that she didn't even feel them anymore. "How long has he been hitting me tonight?" She thought to herself slowly as the blows continued to land upon her, her small bed shaking from the repercussions of each blow. "He must have started several minutes ago, I feel like it has been hours though." Looking up at her father's cruel face, she saw that the belt he was using was not actually a belt at all in the first place. Daphne had originally thought it had been considering that he wore it around his waist. But as the banded object rose and fell upon her, Daphne could see small briars and metal prongs hanging from the sides. Her father was beating her with chicken wire from the yard. He was planning on whipping her to death. Her eyes widened as she saw blood rise up with every raising on the weapon, the red liquid flying behind her father and spraying the wall and door with crimson fluid. "No, stop father, stop it." She was so weak at this point that the words came out of her lips and made her sound slightly intoxicated. Her eyes waned open and closed, as she knew she was losing too much blood. "I guess this is it then, I'm going to die here. I'm going to die like this, in this place." She closed her eyes and the pain subsided.  
  
.............................................  
  
Judeau ran into the hallway and saw a door open, the sounds of small whimpers and the extremely loud sound of a metallic object being slammed against something soft emanating in his ears. Judeau narrowed his eyes and drew his kitchen knife from his pocket then he turned the corner and entered the room with the open door.  
  
Judeau saw the man who was hurting Daphne, saw his bulging muscles made from unknown amounts of years doing manual labor. He was tall and strong looking, indeed, more then a match for a small child. Judeau crept up behind the man and felt his arm rising without his mind telling it to, the knife blade glaring back at him from the moonlight as though it was a mighty sword of retribution. Judeau only had time to think of one think before his knife met the evil man's lower back. "Am I really good enough?"  
  
Daphne's father smiled evilly seeing that Daphne was lying in her own blood that covered her bed, and her eyes slowly closed. For years now he had been jealous of his daughter, had been jealous of the love his wife felt for her and how she always ignored him in order to take care of Daphne. "I am the man, I should get more attention." He always used to think to himself. Before he had the chance to make his wife notice him more, she had died from an illness and was no longer with him. "It was always your fault that she died, you worthless little girl." He thought once more as he raised his hand to deliver the final blow to Daphne's face. But as he was about to make the chicken wire dig into her scalp and tear her face away, the man felt a strong painful pinching sensation in his back. He turned slowly to come face to face with a small boy with blonde hair. The boy's eyes stared at Daphne's father with hatred and a desire to kill. The evil man instantly recognized the boy from the field. "You! You are the one that caused Daphne to go against me!" He yelled at the boy who did not falter from his stance, letting go of the kitchen knife in the man's back and allowing it to stay in place.  
  
"Instead of beating on innocent young women, why don't you hit me instead? You pathetic excuse for a man." Judeau told the man in front of him these words with the angriest tone he could afford. He spat on the tall man's chest, the saliva drooling down it. "You are the one that's worthless, not her. You deserve to die." 


	8. Safety with Remorse

Chapter 8: Safety with Remorse  
  
Judeau felt what was flowing through his veins at that period of time as he stood glaring at the large farmer in Daphne's house. "I feel like I'm on fire." He thought, as the farmer raised his arm that held the chicken wire high into the air. "I'm burning up inside, and everything at once is telling me to do one single thing. I have to do it, but why do I think I can so easily?"  
  
"I'm going to kill you." Judeau told the man in an emotionless manner as the injured farmer brought the makeshift whip down and across Judeau's chest. The iron prongs of the wire dug into Judeau's left breast, the spur- like objects tearing at his flesh. Judeau knew he was bleeding, he knew that he was injured. For some reason, however, instead of falling to one knee and whimpering in pain like most children his age would have, he instead held his ground. Without losing his footing or his composure in the slightest, Judeau continued to stare at the man in front of him, begging to be struck another time. "I don't think you heard me old man. I told you that you will die." The words soaked into the farmer like water to a sponge.  
  
Jerking the wire loose from the boy's chest, the farmer raised it once more over his head and aimed for Judeau's face. Judeau moved his left hand to the back of his pants and felt the hilt of another knife he was carrying. As the large man's arm rose like a tower in the sky, Judeau flicked his arm forward and felt the knife leave his hand and travel into the air. Time stood still for a brief moment as the blade met emptiness and then tasted blood.  
  
The knife had hit its target slightly below the chin of the large farmer. Although not very sharp at all, having been Judeau's emergency knife, the blade never the less sunk deep into the man's throat. The man lumbered stupidly around the room for a small amount of time, gurgling and choking on his own blood, the red liquid pouring down his body like it were a rushing river. He then fell to his knees as though they weighed a million pounds and his eyes widened to stare at the small boy who had just killed him. For what seemed like an eternity, their eyes met in that dark and chaotic room. Judeau saw the fear in the man's eyes at knowing that his death was imminent and coming quickly.  
  
As the farmer fell and stopped breathing, a pool of crimson flowing and spreading around his corpse, Judeau just stood in the spot he had been in the entire time and looked down at the man he had just killed. "I murdered someone." Judeau said to himself quietly. "I just killed a man." He raised his hands to reveal that even though he never struck the man with his own arm, he still knew that the farmer's blood was still soaking into his palms. He clenched his fists tightly and then rushed over to where Daphne was still slowly gasping for breath on her blood-drenched bed. Not knowing quite what to do, the young street performer remembered something that was given to him not very long ago.  
  
Pulling out the small pouch that Daphne had given to him as a present when they had first met, he took out a handful of the sparkling dust and then closed his eyes in prayer. "Please work, if there truly is someone out there that looks over others, please let this stuff help her." He opened his eyes slowly and then began to wipe the dust all over Daphne's prone body. She was soon covered in it, the fine powder soon seemingly vanishing as though it were never there. In order to stop her bleeding, Judeau pulled some cloth curtains from her window and wrapped her up in them, and then he fell before her and closed his eyes, not knowing what would happen in the morning, but not caring either. "I want to go far away, I want to be a star now." 


	9. Rivers of Emotion

Chapter 9: Rivers of Emotion  
  
The night continued on as Judeau fell asleep from both exhaustion and fright. The fight with Daphne's father and realization that he had slain another human being had proved to be too much for the frail young boy. Lost in a sea of thoughts and regrets for what had just happened, Judeau had fallen to his knees before his female friend and then found his face faltering and falling onto Daphne's prone chest. The girl had suffered unbearable damage from the iron chicken wire that her father had beaten her with moments before, and had lost consciousness due to blood loss and to the shock of intense pain. The two friends who had only met not long ago were now sleeping quietly next to each other, sharing warmth in this nightmare that was reality.  
  
As he slept, Judeau saw vivid images of what he had been doing for the past couple of years. He saw himself traveling from doorstep to doorstep, begging as many people as he could find to give him but a small amount of food. Being only six years old, Judeau knew almost nothing of the outside world, and so he was lost. His mother having died from a terrible contagion, and his father having fallen during an attack by marauders, Judeau was forced to wander aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity by himself. "I want to go home." He thought sadly to himself. "I want to crawl into my bed and wake up to a new world." Although his life was terrible and only a small fraction even bearable to even think about, Judeau never-the- less trudged onward. "Life has nowhere left to go but up." He found his own voice ringing in the deepest recesses of his mind. "What doesn't kill us will only make us stronger."  
  
Judeau saw himself walking in the forest during a cool autumn day. He was still a boy, maybe four years ago. The traveling gypsies had taken him in and had decided to make Judeau one of their own. They had felt sorry for the small boy having to go through this horrible life by himself. Judeau was frail, weak and underweight even for his dismal age. When the performers had found him that day on the side of the road, he was dressed in rags of the clothes he had always had since he was orphaned two years earlier. The dirty and soiled cloth hung from his tiny body as though it were a tarp and he was nothing more then a small bundle of apples. "Come with us and we will take care of you." They had told him. "Why live life when there is nothing to live for? We can give you that something boy, we can give you a tomorrow to look forward too. Trust us and you will live." Those kind words had attracted the young boy like a magnet to metal, and before he knew it, Judeau was throwing knives better then the original gypsy expert could. "He's a natural," The old knife thrower had once said. "It is as though Judeau was meant to throw them, its as though the knives were a part of him somehow." And so, as the knife thrower had said, Judeau thought his life was created to throw knives, and throw knives he did. For the couple of years Judeau had stayed with those gypsies, those street performers. He was twelve now, and he thought that he was untouched by the cruelties and the consequences of a planet where no one cared for others.  
  
Judeau thought that his thin grasp on reality was purely and simply tranquility. Nothing could have stopped him from happiness, not with his calling found, not with his people. Nothing would wane him from his path that had given itself to him. Then it seemed, as he arrived in this particular village that fate had given him something he had never felt nor seen before. Daphne, although they had only shared a few words, knew more about Judeau than even he knew. She was only one it seemed that shared his pain, that shared his hardships and that knew what he felt deep in his heart. "Daphne," Judeau said softly outloud. "You smell like flowers."  
  
Judeau breathed in the melodious scent of perfume and infinite loveliness of spring fragrance and then realized to his utter dismay that the flower scent slowly was changing into something putrid. The wonderful aroma of flowers, the blossoms that transpired when thoughts of Daphne crossed his mind soon transformed into the sinister smell of death. The metallic iron smell flooded his nostrils and made his eyes water. He then knew at that very moment what this smell was. Opening his eyes and leaving the peaceful euphoria of sleep, Judeau's glazed over eyes slowly revealed what was causing the horrible smell to awaken him.  
  
The sunlight was there, and as the beams of luminescence crept into the room and illuminated the bed, Judeau saw Daphne's eyes wide open. She stared blankly up at the ceiling, her mouth cracked a bit, saliva dried to her face. 


	10. Echoes of Anger

Judeau's eyes widened in alarm as he saw the vacant expression on the young woman's face. He opened his mouth wide, all thoughts of the dead man behind him completely lost from his mind as he saw Daphne laying in front of him, her dried blood saturating the cloth sheets. "Daphne?" Judeau said in a raspy silent voice. He then snapped out of his trance and grabbed Daphne by the shoulders and began to shake her, trying to wake her up. "Daphne! Wake up!" He yelled at her, her eyes wide open yet moving as he used all the strength in his frail body to move her around the maroon stained mattress.

The sun rose into the sky and bathed the sky in brilliant colors. Judeau had tried to wake up Daphne for over an hour now, his efforts worthless, his attempts meaningless. The girl was gone now, she probably had been gone for a long time. Judeau breathed heavily and his head fell to Daphne's motionless chest. Tears escaped from his eyes, the drops rushing out like small subsidiaries that emptied out into the lake that was his damaged heart. This girl, someone he had barely known for even a week now, had been taken from him, and he felt like the world was going to end at any time.

Taking a deep breath, Judeau slowly rose to his feet, and stared down at the corpse before him. She had been destroyed by the one who had helped her enter this miserable world, just as Judeau failed to save the one that brought him into it. Judeau narrowed his eyes at the corpse, the sorrow he felt towards her now transforming into something else. He clenched his fists tightly into balls and began to shake with stress. Cringing, his eyes shutting closed again, new tears began to pour down his face once more. "Why does everyone leave me!?" He screamed the words as they rang throughout the now morbid farmhouse. The echoes traveled outside and passed the small field, traveling across the spot of land where Judeau and Daphne had spoken the night before. As Griffith was running down the street clutching the newly purchased red luck charm he had gotten from the old gypsy woman, the sound of chaos and anger erupted around him.

Note: Sorry for such a long wait guys, Ive been so busy that its been ridiculous! Ill make sure I get back to updating a bunch more soon! So don't worry!

Man, now I wonder if I even have any readers left? ;)


	11. Choices and Tears

It's been awhile hasn't it everyone? I always wanted to continue this story, but for the longest time I had no idea what to do with it or how to write down any ideas I might have had. I think a year or two has even gone by since I updated "Its all in the Wrist", but I think now is a good a time as ever to get back in the habit and add some more to the story. What began as a very short story idea had turned into something a little longer thanks to reviews by the readers out there. I will continue to write more chapters to this story as long as people read it and review it, so expect to see more chapters soon whenever I can write them now that I am back.

-Blade3000xl

……………………………………………………………….

The screams of frustration and pain rang out and across the fields like a horn being bellowed right before the beginning of a battle. Griffith stopped in his tracks, as he heard them, the small red charm bouncing back and forth against his side as he did, slowing down after what seemed like forever, and gently rocked in his hand in the wind. Griffith turned slowly and looked at the source of the screams, a small wooden farmhouse to his right, lit up like a bastion of hope from the sunlight of the new day as it rose behind it. Griffith heard the screams again and couldn't help but think that someone may have been in trouble. It could have been anyone in there, an old man who had fallen over and had injured himself, a young woman who was being beaten or robbed by evil men, or maybe even a small child who didn't want to eat his broccoli. The sounds could not be classified as it sounded so loathsome and sad that it barely even seemed human. Griffith looked down in his hand at the charm, quickly shoved it into his pant pocket and did the only thing he thought that was right, he ran towards the front door of the house as fast as he could.

Judeau clutched the dead young woman in his arms as tightly as he could, the sounds that erupted from his mouth drowning out all others around him. Never before had he felt such pain and suffering. He had been alone for so long in his life, and right when he finally thought he found someone that understood him, she was gone in an instant. Judeau tried yet again to wake her, he knew she was already gone, but to give up even now seemed like a betrayal to their friendship. He shook her by the shoulders, her lifeless head bobbing up and down against the bed like a ragdoll. He was so occupied by his grief that he didn't hear the front door open quickly and slam against the wall, or the calls asking if everything was alright. Before he knew it someone had ran into the room with him and Judeau had been found, covered in blood and holding a mutilated corpse in his hands.

Griffith stood behind him in the doorway, looking around the room unable to understand what had happened, seeing the lifeless body of the young girl and the dead heap that used to be her father laying on the floor right in front of him. Strangely enough, even as Judeau turned slowly, tears streaking his face, Griffith couldn't feel any emotion stir inside of him. He didn't feel sadness for the deaths of these two people, nor did he feel shock or surprise by seeing Judeau there with them. His eyes narrowing, Griffith slowly came forward and kneeled down beside Judeau, staring at Daphne's body. "What have you done?" he asked Judeau, their eyes not meeting. It took awhile for Judeau to answer, his throat clogged with mucas, his eyes burning like fire from all the tears. "I…I didn't do anything."

Griffith put a hand on his young friends shoulder and looked over to him, "Well, it doesn't look like nothing to me." Judeau nodded at his comment, knowing very well that no one would have believed him even if he told his story how it went. In times like these, it made more sense for a poor boy to murder a family to get some food then for one to murder a man for almost killing his daughter. He knew that he would most certainly go to jail, be locked away forever and never see daylight again. "What should I do Griffith? Whatever shall I do now?" his words were cracked and barely made any sense as they left his mouth, his sobs mixing in with them making them coarse. Griffith stood up and folded his arms across his chest. "Well, seeing as you're a murderer now, how about you come with me?" Judeau looked up, aghast at how calm Griffith was concerning the circumstances; he was like a brick wall. "Come with you? Why? Where are you going?" The young man looked up into the eyes of the other with the strange whitish hair and saw a small smile cross his face. "Well, I was going to march out of this awful place and find my own home. I could use a traveling companion to come with me on my trip, so now that you pretty much have no other choice, why don't you join me?" Griffith outstretched his hand and offered in to Judeau to help him up, the thick string of the odd charm hanging from the boy's pocket. Judeau thought for a moment on what he should do, looking back over at Daphne, and then over to the corpse of her late father bleeding out on the ground, the floor covered in crimson liquid. He knew he was innocent in this case, he killed her father trying to protect her, and that was all. If he ran away now, would he ever be able to perform again? What would happen if he left with Griffith and they both fled the village? The country of Midland was such a dangerous place now because of the war, would they even have a chance for survival at all? Not knowing at all what to do, Judeau suddenly found his hand raising away from Daphne and join with Griffith's. The boy lifted his friend from the ground and both stood in silence in front of each other. For the longest time both stood and stared, each not knowing what to say. Then Griffith finally did something, moving over and kneeling behind the large slab of meat on the ground. He reached under the body and came back up with the bloody knife Judeau had thrown and killed him with. Extending the knife to Judeau, Griffith smiled and said, "I do believe this is yours, is it not?"


End file.
